On Darkness, We Dance
by DarKade
Summary: Faith and Willow have both danced with darkness. And as The Battle of Sunnydale looms, they both realise how similar they are.


**On Darkness, We Dance**

By DarKade

There was something terrifying in the rawness of her freedom. The unguarded openness around her. In prison, the relentless rhythm of regimented days moulded her. It set her like a clock.

She hated this form that freedom had taken. The whole thing brought to mind that rubbery, uncontrollable shivering sensation you get after a cast comes off a broken limb. She wondered if the sensation would pass, or would it draw her back to that place? That cell.

It was only fair. After all, she deserved it. Right?

Faith sat on the back porch of Buffy's house, gazing out across the moonlit garden. The night air was charged with an impending storm. Faith could smell it coming on the breeze. But for now everything was calm. Out there, anyway.

Inside, the sounds of the potential Slayers fighting and bickering played on, thankfully muffled.

Faith liked to stay in earshot though. It made her feel she was doing her part in protecting them. Poor dumb kids. They had no idea what was out there, coming for then. None of them had yet set eyes on what darkness truly was.

Faith took a long pull from her bottle, letting the beer trickle slowly down her throat. It didn't quite wash away the near choking tightness, but it helped a merciful little.

There was a time when Faith revelled in freedom. Jumped off that step with both feet, and ran into that night fearlessly, arms wide to the forces of chance. But now, well... how things had changed. She had changed.

Faith was now grateful for the semblance of order that came with Willow dragging her back to Sunnydale. Back to being the moon in the orbit of Buffy Summer's sun. Here she merely had to follow. _Point me at the bad guys. Pull the trigger. Let me do what I do._

She didn't even mind being second-fiddle Slayer for once, because that meant she didn't have to be in control. She just couldn't trust herself.

Faith was aware of Willow standing at the doorway behind her. She could hear the little breaths and faint wet clicks as Willow hesitantly started to shape words but swallowed them back. Despite fearing what the witch was trying so hard to put into words, Faith felt strangely comforted by her presence. She realised how lonely she felt right now. So she cracked the cap off a second beer and without turning, held it toward the witch.

Willow took the beer and the silent invitation that went with it, and settled in on the step beside her.

'Would I be a bad person if I imagined strangling just one or two of them?' Willow said.

Faith chuckled. 'Ya know... I thought it was just B that rubbed me up the wrong way. Must be a Slayer thing. One girl in all the world- picked from a bunch of bitchy, bossy, selfish, bratty little messed up miscreants.'

Willow gave Faith an exasperated look and nodded fervently, both eyebrows engaged for maximum effect.

Faith chuckled. 'Can't you just rustle up a magic gag for them all or somethin'?'

'Tempting... but... you know... pesky ethics n' all.' Willow said with mock sigh, 'It's probably not of the good to say this but... being evil? Things were sooo much easier.'

'I hear that.' Faith smiled, and the girls chinked together their beers.

'Not that I would ever...' Willow added, her expression shifting from a wicked gleam to that of guilty concern. Faith enjoyed that the girl's emotions could turn on a dime, maybe because it kept her interesting. 'Coz, you know... I still got the karmic bill from last time. This gal? Strictly for the home team now. ' Willow tacked on a nervous smiled as if to reassure Faith. It was adorable.

'Thought you only played for the home team now.' Faith smirked. Well, she couldn't leave that one hanging. She expected Willow to flush brightly and shy away, but that was the Willow she once knew. This Willow, however, lifted the beer casually to her lips as a dark sensual smile drew across them. Faith felt her stomach knot.

She realised she did not know this woman at all. She had so little respect for the Willow of her high school days. Yet this woman before her? Well, it was night and day, really.

For starters Faith knew that Willow could crush her like a bug now. That this Willow had pounded Buffy to a bloody mess, something she herself hadn't managed at her best. This Willow had murdered two men.

Like Faith.

Still the memory of holding her knife to that little geeky girl's throat hovered uncomfortably in Faith's mind. A change of subject was in order.

'Sooo' Faith shot a wicked grin. 'Kennedy huh? Girl seems keen.'

'Too keen. She just doesn't take no for an answer. Nor 'nope', 'nuh-uh', 'thanks but no thanks'... it's getting ridiculous; I am running out of negatives to give her.'

'Want me to kick her ass?'

'Tempting.' she smiles, and takes a sip. 'I mean, I am flattered and all. And some... company of the... affectionate kind would be nice. It's just... ' Willow trailed off and Faith let her. She watched the ginger girl's face dance through a range of expressions.

'So why not just give the girl a shot? Gotta get under someone to get over someone, right? Just be clear it's just some fun. No karmic bill for that.'

Willow scowled as she played the idea over in her head.

'I don't think I am wired up like you Faith. That whole 'get some, get gone' thing. I dunno how you can do it. Sex for me it's just so deeply, intensely bound up in feelings.'

Faith chuckled to herself. 'Wanna know a secret Red? Promise that it will go no further?'

'Sure. Former evil girl scout's honour.' she said, saluting vaguely.

'All those tales of my sexual antics?' Faith said, whispering for dramatic effect alone. Willow rolled her eyes. 'No, hear me out Red. See, here's the thing... let's just say they where a little tall.'

Willow seemed confused.

'I lied.'

'You what?'

'I lied. I was full of shit. When we met? I had only gotten horizontal with two people. Number three was the only guy I used and discarded. Felt like crap after.'

'You mean?' a tip of the witches head towards the house indicated that she meant Xander. Willow seemed incredulous. 'You are freakin' kidding me? '

'Evil girl scouts honour.' The vague salute was returned. 'I mean, I was barely sixteen when we met. What with the coma and prison and the whole... yunno... evil thing- didn't really get around to it. I was just shooting my mouth off trying to look the bad girl.'

'So, you have only slept with three people? Wait, four. Does Riley count?'

'Ain't that a question.' Faith says and takes a swig. _Body swapping with Buffy. Is sex with the mind or with the body?_

'Okay- four-ish people'

'ish'

'A very meta ish.'

'So... uh... you didn't get all lonely and live up to any, you know, prison stereotypes?' Willow's eyes flickered with playful challenge.

'Oh yeah, all the time.' Faith shot back huskily. But the inference was a lie. Definitely a 'yes' to the lonely part, but nonetheless driving away any and all sexual advances from the inmates. Not from lack of desire, but in a twisted way, another self imposed punishment. A way to gain control over herself. Still, the lie felt wrong in her mouth- implied or otherwise.

Willow's husky chuckle told Faith she had been caught at her lie. You really couldn't slip anything past this girl. Faith had to admire that.

'Figured you played for both sides.' Willow added dryly.

'Hardy, harr Red.' Faith said, hoping she covered the sting from the double meaning.

_Turncoat. Traitor._

Faith took another long pull from her beer and swallowed hard. Willow nursed hers in her long pale fingers. They sat in silence for a stretch of time. Perhaps they both were thinking back over their blackest days. Perhaps.

Faith glanced at the woman by her side, so different to the girl she had known. She could see the years of fighting darkness had moulded Willow. Her elfish chin was held high now against the world, her poise relaxed and confident. Faith could almost feel the crackle of power under the pale smooth skin, could imagine the sparks, like static if she reached out and brushed lightly along it with her hand.

Willow pushed her long hair back behind her ear and took a deep breath. Letting it out in a slow, controlled manner through her trembling lips. Faith could tell that inside, Willow was fighting another battle. Breathing slow; Turning inner chaos into ordered rhythm.

'Funny how things turned out.' Faith found herself saying. Willow lifted her head so their eyes met, and offered Faith a smile.

'It is.' she said.

Faith swallowed as Willow's eyes darted momentarily to her lips before flicking back to meet her gaze. Faith fought with the urge to ask for a clean slate. A do over. But somehow she knew that Willow already agreed. Unspoken understanding. Perhaps even forgiveness. As much as neither could forgive themselves, they could forgive each other.

Unsure, Faith reached a, slow, trembling hand to brush the hair from Willow's face. The witch was still, unresisting.

Faith's hand lingered. then, a gentle caress down the girl's cheek.

A soft, sad smile flickered momentarily across Willows face before her hand came up to cup Faith's hand, drawing it to her cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut at the tender touch.

Faith pulled the woman's face close to hers, hovering on the edge of whatever this was between them. Willow's eyes opened, and she slowly closed the distance between them. If any had existed at all.

The first kiss was solace in the moonlight. An apology of flesh to flesh.

The second deepened, speaking of tenderness. Of consent. And ohh, how right it felt.

And, it was if something broke away in Willow then, floating free at last. She flowed against Faith like tide meeting shore, straddling her lap and pulling her close as she kissed her.

In turn, Willow's unexpected passion ignited Faith's long buried desire, forcing it through every inch of her body, setting her senses alive, so the merest touch of the witch came through deep and strong and clear.

Faith needed to be engulfed by this girl, this woman. Moaning as she felt Willow's heat against her. She pulled the witch closer, urged her forward, claimed her mouth in deep, full kisses. Willow rose up so she could press her body against Faith's, fingers entwined through her hair, pulling her closer still, like it was as vital to her as breath.

Willow realised she had held herself back from the idea of loving again, of desiring, lingering in Tara's ghost because, only there, she could feel the guilt at her crimes in its most piercing, purest form. But Faith was pulling her out of that, drawing her from pain with not a promise of erasing her crimes, but connecting with her- guilt to guilt, goodness to goodness, lips to lips. Need to blessed need.

Faith gasps out for air first. Holding Willow so she can read her pale, beautiful face in the moonlight. Looking for anger. Looking for regret. For judgement.

But she finds only an openness, a desire. Willow strokes her hands down Faith's body, testing the borders of their new found intimacy.

Willow slowly stands and pulls Faith to her feet. Neither need words now. The next step seems inevitable. They share a nervous smile. Willow silently takes Faith's hand and leads her into the house. Into her room. Into her bed.

And when it all ends, when the battle is won, when Sunnydale comes crashing down into that crater, when the tears have all been cried and ghosts set to rest, Faith finds that she does not crave the rhythm and regimen of the past.

Instead she finds her days filled with saucy smiles and wicked green intelligent eyes. Of passionate nights and the pride that comes from being loved. Fighting evil both inside and out.

Walking on her line between darkness and light, hand in hand with someone who walks that line too.

It feels like dancing.

The End


End file.
